


We Can Worry About the Coffin Later

by theshalashaska



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: M/M, hello i haven't been here in forever, lestat turning louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-04 13:32:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11556216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshalashaska/pseuds/theshalashaska
Summary: Alone. And yet, here was a warm body, resplendent in his humanity, and Lestat knew there was little he could do to resist.





	1. Lestat

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So I originally wrote the first chapter of this In June 2016, and when I finished finally typing up the first bit and started skimming over the second I realised I was missing a page after the second part. I have NO idea where it is (as it stands, it's a miracle I found either of THESE pages), which is unfortunate because I remember actually liking it a fair bit (I literally wrote this whole thing just for the ending). I don't particularly want to re-write it because of course I want the original, but I'm going to suck it up because I really do want it to stand finished.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for complaining! I know my writings are never all that long, but I hope you enjoy this one, all the same. Thanks for reading!!

He was heady with the scent of the other man; more so than he’d imagined he would be. The sound of his blood thrumming beneath the skin was almost enough to draw Lestat from his vantage point. But…

His name was Louis. He had brown hair, soft, pulled back in a perfect ponytail. A strong face with dramatic edges, though rounded instead of pointed. His lips were pink and quaint, but not too small. And his eyes… But Lestat always found eyes mesmerising. They spoke in a different way than the soul, and just as true. Maybe truer, if you didn’t put much value in such things as a soul.

Lestat knew he would take this man for his own. Louis called to him, tempted him, and he would not be denied. Innocent or no, Lestat had to have a taste. Of course, “just a taste” was rarely ever simply so. No, he had a feeling this one would be different. Perhaps, even, it might turn out as with Gabrielle, and--Well, maybe just Gabrielle. Better.

Louis was more tantalising than he should have been. He was so human it burned. Would he retain that compassion, or could Lestat soil it? Make him a devil? He saw those perfect hands turned white, wrapped around the neck of some poor girl and him feeding without one solitary drop of moral decency.

He couldn’t do it yet. After all, he’d promised himself a taste, and nothing more, for tonight. The stars as his witnesses, he would hold off on any finality for at least a night. Even though his mind whispered to him,  _ It’s never just a taste _ .

The opening presented itself, too late or too son he could not tell, and Lestat had Louis back against himself in the shadows faster than even he could comprehend. He longed for moonlight.

“Shh,” he said. “Just feel me.”

The most beautiful taste filled his mouth ‘till it was near overflowing. Louis made a low, desperate noise at the back of his throat and feebly clasped his gloved hands over those cradling his head.

Lestat took another pull and the blood sang through him. This one made Louis moan softly--almost sweetly--and melt back against his captor. In his mind lay confusion, and the most exquisite pleasure the fruit of his life had yet come to bear.

Another drink, his body slackened. His hands had begun to caress Lestat’s wrists, and he was humming. He was enchanting. Lestat slid his arms down Louis’ sides, wrapped them snug around his abdomen. Louis brought one hand up and back to Lestat’s face and let the other drop to his side.

The fourth swell of blood reached a crescendo in the vampire’s ears. Dimly, a small part in the back of his mind was ringing in alarm, but the rest of him was riding along the sweet sensation. Lestat pulled back enough to trace the wound with his lips. He shivered.  _ So close to death _ …

He dragged his tongue against Louis’ neck once, twice, three times before he unwound himself from the mortal man. Lestat took him gently by the elbows.

“No…” Louis blindly reached back for him.

His heart fluttered, and Lestat ached. He licked the blood from his lips and brought his mouth close to Louis’ ear.

“Soon, I swear I’ll come back to you.”

He turned Louis around and simply stared for a beat.  _ Beautiful eyes _ … He kissed Louis soft and quick against his lips before he could change his mind.

“Go home,” his whispered, and then he was gone.


	2. Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything was new, and so, so beautiful.

Dimly, Louis realised he was home. So they had found him before he could die. But it was fuzzy, the memory… Someone drank his blood. Hands on his waist. Lips on his skin. Lips on his  _ lips _ . Was that part a memory, or a dream? He couldn’t recall. He thought about his brother and forgot to care.

He was overtaken by delerium and could think of nothing more, but for his brother’s death, how  _ he _ had caused it. He told the priest. He felt disgusting, despicable. The priest must have thought the same. And then he spoke of the Devil and Louis felt enraged and the rest of it was confusing. They bled him, and he was almost dead. He dreamed of the man with the golden hair and the pretty grey eyes. 

When Louis awoke, he saw the man again and knew he was no longer dreaming. He spoke of vampires and possibility and Louis couldn’t stop staring at him. After he’d gone, Louis remembered the way it felt pressed back against him. He wondered if it would feel as good to change or if it would hurt. He tried to remember what kissing him had felt like and couldn’t.

The next night, the death of the overseer. Lestat--he’d recalled it in the morning, this name--was magnificent. Beautiful beating the overseer’s body even while Louis’ insides churned. He wanted to touch Lestat’s magnificence, to take some part of it into himself and keep it forever. His actions caught up in seconds.

All the way to the house, and to him sitting on the steps, the vicious want to die burned his insides. And then Lestat attacked and it  _ hurt _ and he wondered if he hadn’t merely imagined the pleasure of it before and recoiled from his thoughts.

Lestat took a different approach from the last, and now lay beside Louis on the steps.  _ Like a lover. _ He remembered the kiss and flinched, but Lestat would have none of it. His right arm curled around Louis in a way that at once reminded him of their first encounter. He was held closer to the vampire than he would’ve thought possible, and as he moved to test the space a finger pressed against his mouth and sent a tingle straight through to his spine.

Lestat murmured words Louis was not to recall until later, and it was when he stopped struggling that teeth once more sunk into that same spot on his neck. It was gentler, this time. Softer. Lestat told him to keep his eyes open and all at once the memory of pleasure was no longer just a memory.

He felt it sear through his body in a mimicry of sex, but without the touches or kisses. No sooner did it give way to pain, and he wished the blood loss would’ve taken longer, if only that the intense sensation might fade a little slower. He watched Lestat bite his own wrist and follow the trickle of his own blood flooding out, paralysed as he was.

“Drink, Louis,” he said, and he did.

The blood brought a more exquisite feeling than any he’d ever known. Better than sex, better than anything. He was aware of the drum of his heartbeat and also that of Lestat’s, and the sensation filled every part of him until his body was positively thrumming with an overflow of energy. He wanted all of it, all of Lestat, and too soon the wrist was moving away and he whined at the loss of contact. Reached for it, until he thought of heartbeats. His and Lestat’s, the drums.

He blinked, and Lestat was gone. The world was new. Amasing. He looked at Lestat and his breath caught. His eyes, his hair, his buttons… Louis stood frozen, transfixed merely by those buttons, and could have stood there for hours more had Lestat not moved. 

Now, Louis was able to follow the movement, all the way up to the slight tilt of his arm and the delicate touch of fingers to his jaw. He opened his mouth to speak and forgot language. The only thing that existed in that moment was Lestat, and his fingers marking a trail down the side of his neck and around to his throat.

He reached to lay his fingers on the back of Lestat’s hand and, not meeting any resistance, leaned in to capture the other’s lips of his own accord. He felt the slight intake of breath, the tension and subsequent relaxing of each and every muscle in Lestat’s body through that one kiss. He broke away, then, not for air so much as reflection.

Lestat looked surprised, yet made no comment. Louis kissed him again, a little deeper, this time, a little more alive. Well. Alive in motion, more than being, perhaps. He was overcome with the desire to trail his lips all across this bared flesh, heedless of the openness the step subjected them to, and would have done so willingly.

But Lestat had pulled back at the tail of this thought with a look of alarm. Louis looked at him uncertainly, fear edging at the back of his consciousness. His companion took no notice of his nervousness. He looked over Louis’ shoulder and swore. 

“I haven’t gotten you a coffin.”

He stared at Lestat. “A coffin?”

“I suppose you can share mine.”

Louis returned his hand to Lestat’s face and guided him closer. His blood was singing, entire body tingling. 

He breathed against Lestat’s lips, “Then, we can worry about the coffin later.”

He kissed him again, and they fell together without another thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ay, I finished it! I tried not to make it super corny, but I'm not entirely sure I succeeded. Well, feel free to let me know what you think down below! Thanks for reading!!


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